


here comes the sun

by saintjaeger



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 60s folk music?, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gardening AU, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 02:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17357120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintjaeger/pseuds/saintjaeger
Summary: After Armin's Grandfather passes, he inherits the house and large garden he grew up in. As much as he loves it, he doesn't have the time to maintain it, so he hires the help of a landscaper.Enter: Jean





	1. Chapter 1

Armin was awoken by birds chirping and bright rays of the sun glaring through the window. His eyes slowly opened and he took a look around the baby blue room, illuminated by the morning. All the curtains in the house were sheer, his grandfather loved the light. He hadn’t had the heart to change them yet.

The sound of the coffee pot brewing roused Armin out of his state of sleep. Slowly he made his way downstairs, floorboards creaking under his steps. He glanced at the calendar as he made his way into the kitchen, June 21st.

In the Arlert house, the first day of summer always meant one thing, weeding. For as long as he could remember, he’d spent the day in the garden with his grandfather, hands in the dirt from sunrise to sunset. Now it was just him, of course.

After pouring himself a cup he stepped onto his back patio to consider the state of the garden. The time of year meant the roses were at the peak of their bloom, he could smell their velvet fragrance from where he stood. Past the roses, were daffodils, then the peonies, the lavender, the daisies... Rows and rows of flowerbeds overflowing with growth. The spectacular array of colors never failed to enamor Armin, he loved the garden more than anything else. He never minded the labor involved, though there was a lot. He’d cared for each and every plant meticulously for years. This was the first year, however, he’d had to do it on his own. 

It was still early, about 6:45. He didn't need to look at a clock to know, he just did. The morning hair had a special kind of quality to it. _Right on time._

He placed his cup in the sink before grabbing his pair of overalls from the hook behind the door. He’d had the same pair for years. They were well worn, to say the least, at some point, the holes had gotten so bad Armin just cut the legs off, making them into shorts. It kept him cooler anyway. He took his sunhat down from another hook. He quickly learned that his fair skin would burn horribly if he didn't wear it. Tugging on his boots, he went outside to get to work.

He decided to start with herb garden, it was particularly overgrown and he wanted to avoid the thorny rosebushes as long as possible. He cut a few springs off each, taking a moment to smell them. Sage, Thyme, Rosemary. He tied them with a piece of twine before putting them in a basket to use later.

The monotonous task of weeding soothed him, it wasn’t often he got to do something without an intense amount of thought. He stayed up until nearly two earlier that morning sorting through his research notes for his thesis. Though it was summer, the work never ended. He was on track to graduate early and most of his fieldwork had to be done in the warmer months. 

Every now and then he would pause to take note of the condition of the plants, if they needed more water, more sunlight. Every small detail held great significance to him.

The hot sun on his back told him it was nearly noon, he’d been working for hours without noticing. He pushed up the brim of his hat to wipe off the sweat from his forehead, looking at his progress. He’d only been able to complete about a quarter of it. Even with two of them, they’d barely managed to make it a day job. There was no way he could finish it all alone, fatigue setting in. It was getting to the hottest part of the day so he figured he ought to take a break.

Fixing himself a simple a lunch he returned to the patio, sitting in one of the two chairs. Always on the left. Grateful for the shade, he propped his feet up and considered what to do.

Though he hated to admit it, he really couldn't take care of the garden by himself. It was simply too much work. His grandfather had always been there tending to it while he was in school. Now he carried the burden alone. He had no one to call to help. He didn't really trust anyone to do it right either, but the fact was either he’d fall behind in school, or the garden would die.

It wasn’t an option. He couldn't let it die.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“This is Survey Corps. Landscaping, Levi speaking.” A bored voice answered the call.

“Hello my name is Armin Arlert, I’m looking for someone to take care of my garden a few days a week.”

Ultimately, he’d decided to swallow his pride and hire help. He’d found the company online, it’s weird name catching his eye. They had good reviews. 

“I don't want any changes made, I just want someone to maintain it. If you have someone with a background in botany preferably.”

“Are you suggesting that we aren’t professionals?” the voice on the line challenged.

“What? No, I just want-”

“Someone to watch your garden. I get it. Someone will be there in an hour.”

The line went dead. 

 _That was rude, he hadn’t even gotten the address._ Unsure if anyone was going to show up he’d decided to cut his break short, in order to get as much as possible done. 

He tied his hair back, it was now sticking uncomfortably to the sweat on the back of his neck. He was grateful that the shirt he was wearing was made of linen. 

He was about to venture back into the garden when he had a thought. After digging around in one of the closets, he’d found his grandfather's old record player, it was one of those portable ones. Thumbing through his options he settled on Cat Stevens. He brought the player outside with him and began to hum as he got back to work.

_If you want to sing out, sing out..._

He had made it to the flower beds now, the smell of damp soil mixing with the florals was intoxicating. He watched as honeybees gathered pollen, flying from one blossom to the next. He dug his hands into the dirt, careful to avoid upsetting any earthworms. Every little insect reminded him that the garden was a living thing. A mini-ecosystem that he had cultivated. 

_I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul..._

He bobbed his head to the new song, singing out loud. It really was enjoyable work for him. He didn’t mind how dirty his knees were, or how hot the sun was. He got lost in the pleasant rhythm of the garden. The breeze swayed the higher stalks gently and rustled the wind chimes, their sounds twinkling along with the music.

_“Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild world, it hard to get by just upon a smile...”_

His voice grew louder along with the swell of the chorus, belting out happily.

“Oh baby, baby, it’s a-”

Record scratch.

The music stopped.

He turned around to be confronted with a tall tawny haired boy, no older than himself, grinning down at him.

“Hey uh, is your Dad around?” 

“What? Who are you?” he asked the intruder, irritated that he’d been snuck up on and interrupted. 

“I’m Jean. The landscaper. I’m looking for Mr. Arlert?” he was still grinning, unfazed by Armin’s attitude. 

Armin sighed, brushing the dirt off his knees as he stood up. The other boy still had a good few inches on him. It was annoying. 

“That's me.” He said with a small huff. 

“Oh sorry.” He didn’t seem sorry at all. “I wasn’t expecting someone so...”He trailed off eyeing Armin up and down.

“Young?” he finished for him.

“Cute.”

Armin chose not to dignify that with a response.

The other boy remained unfazed “So this is your place, huh?” He whistled. “Nice. What you’ve got here is amazing, I'm super excited. Your delphiniums are like, totally sweet. I've never seen them that tall.”

He snorted at that. “Yes, they are. I don’t want to be rude, but this garden is important to me. I need to know that you can take care of it. I can’t lose any plants, okay? Not a single one.” Armin didn’t need to tell him why.

The smug look was wiped off Jean’s face and replaced by one uncharacteristically sincere. “ I know I don’t look it, but I do know what I’m doing, you can trust me.” 

Armin nodded slowly, debating if he should just forget the whole thing and tell the boy to get out. 

“Here, it looks like you’re weeding today? Easy peasy. Why don’t you take a break while I take over? I’ve got my own tools and everything. You can watch me, make sure I don't fuck it up, okay?” 

He was, in fact, getting a bit tired, the offer didn't seem so awful. 

“I’ll even do you one better. First days on me, if you hire me again. And I promise you, you will.” The cockiness was back.

“Fine. Okay. Sure.” Armin gave in, he had a feeling the other boy wouldn’t let him say no. He seemed a little too eager to just to pull his weeds for him.

Jean let out a little cheer “Thanks Mr. Arlert!”

“Armin” He corrected.

“Huh?” Jean cocked his head to the side. 

“It’s my name. We’re the same age, don’t call me Mr.” It sounded too familiar. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Armin.” He proceeded to bow mockingly.

It’s only for the day, Armin reminded himself. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jean had left to get his tools from his truck, hopping over the fence as he went. He was quite confident that he knew what he was doing, but Armin found it more irritating than assuring. He retreated back inside to cool down for a bit, looking for something to drink. He reached for a pitcher of iced tea he’d made, adding some mint that he had pulled from the garden earlier that morning. He pulled the curtains aside watching through the window as Jean returned, this time wearing a pair of aviators. He could tell from his tan that he’d didn't have to worry about sunburn as Armin did. That was annoying too.

He took a sip from his glass, deciding it needed more honey. His grandfather always made his tea sweet, he’d grown up on it. Perhaps that had something to do with why he found the other boy so frustrating. He was so accustomed to his grandfather's gentle presence, it wasn’t fitting that he would be replaced by someone so crass. No, not replaced. Armin shooed the thought away.

Jean had crouched down at the same bed where he had found Armin earlier, beneath the poppies, pausing to sniff them. Armin pondered what his interest in gardening really was. It seemed like he thought of it as more than just a laborer’s job. He’d even identified delphiniums as such, rather than larkspur as they were more commonly known. Armin observed as Jean worked dutifully, maybe he’d been harsh in his judgment. He poured a second glass of tea, deciding to make a peace offering.

The sound of the screen door shutting caused Jean to look up, waving at Armin cheerfully. Noticing the two glasses in his hands, he stood up from the dirt, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.

“You’re a real darling, ain'tcha?” He said, happily taking the drink Armin offered.

“Well, I’m not a monster. It is hot out here.”

“Here I was, thinking you hated me.”

“The jury's still out.”

Jean chuckled and nodded. “You'll come around. They always do.”

Armin suppressed the desire to go back inside, he really was insufferably arrogant. Instead, he turned his attention the progress Jean had made. He was fast, he’d covered much more ground then Armin expected. Efficient too. He was looking to see some weeds that he missed, but there were none.

“Better than you’d hoped?” Jean had noticed Armin’s evaluation.

“Not bad.”

“Told you. I’m not just a pretty face.”

He hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but Jean was...attractive. It was probably the most irritating thing about him, which said a lot. He decided he didn't want to look at him any longer, avoiding his thoughts go down that road.

“Get back to work.”

“Yes, sir.” Jean touched two fingers to his forehead, saluting him with a wink.

Armin scoffed lightly as he turned around. He wasn’t an idiot, far from it. Jean had been flirting with him shamelessly since he’d arrived, but Armin wasn’t so easy. He had hired him to work, after all, not to get a date.

He settled on the to back patio, pulling out of one of his textbooks. He may as well get some of his own work done. He was in the process of familiarizing himself with the slight difference between _Grevillea victoriae_ _subsp. victoriae_ and _Grevillea victoriae subsp. nivalis._ An enthralling subject, really. He soon found that the book didn’t hold much of his attention, his eyelids becoming heavy due to the lack of sleep the previous night. He let them fall shut with a contented sigh. The fresh air and warm sun on his face had made him particularly at ease. He might have taken the opportunity to lie in the grass and take a quick nap, had Jean not been there.

He opened his eyes, peeking at the boy in his garden. He had his back to him, he could see well-defined muscles straining as he worked. He had his own headphones on, head nodding along to the music enthusiastically. He seemed to enjoy the work as much as Armin had. He would pause occasionally just to wipe the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, lifting it just high enough for Armin to get a peak. It wasn’t such a bad view.

Tearing his eyes away, he stretched languidly. The record player was still next to him, but the vinyl he was playing was gone. He looked around in confusion but found that it had been properly returned to its sleeve. Jean must have put it away to protect it from the sun. It was surprisingly considerate, Armin noted begrudgingly. There were about twenty or so other records he’d pulled from the closet still on the table. His grandfather had many more still buried, from jazz to folk to rock, mostly from the ’60s. He was a collector of a lot of things, records, books, flowers. He debated it for a moment before choosing a rather battered looking version of _Workingman’s Dead,_ It was the only album he really cared for by the Grateful Dead. _American Beauty_ paled in comparison, but he seemed to be in the minority of that opinion. He set the needle down, listening as the stereo began to crackle in the way that only records do.

_Well, the first days are the hardest days, don’t you worry anymore._

It was certainly true. Armin couldn’t help remembering the days following his grandfather’s death. It had been four months now. He just wished he’d lived long enough to see the flowers bloom one more time. He didn’t get out of bed, he didn’t eat. The only thing that motivated him to ever leave the room again was taking care of the garden. In a way, the seeds that his grandfather had planted were an extension of his life. As long as the garden was alive, so was he. Slowly, it got easier.

_Think this through with me, let me know your mind._

_What, oh, what I want to know, is are you kind?_

He was always unfailingly kind, in all walks of life. The way he nurtured his plants, brought his harvest to the neighbors, took Armin in when he was just baby. Armin had taken after in him in his compassion for plants, but not quite with other people. He had never been particularly social, preferring to spend his time alone with a book or pair of pruning shears. Being alone never felt lonely, until he was gone.

_What, oh, what I want to know, will you come with me?_

“What oh, what I want to know, will you come with me?”

There was a second voice singing, that wasn’t coming from the stereo. Right, he wasn’t alone at all. Now he had a landscaper. An arrogant, handsome landscaper. With a decent singing voice. Armin caught Jean's eye across the garden, he had taken his headphones out and was swaying along to the music. He ought to give him a proper chance, his grandfather would.

Armin realized it was nearing four in the afternoon, he’d been letting Jean work alone for almost two hours. Though he was fast, there was still a lot more work to do. He adjusted his hat and picked his gloves off the table, deciding to help. Turning the volume up a few more notches, he crossed the garden to kneel down next to Jean.

“You have good taste,” Jean spoke first.

“Everyone likes The Dead.”

“Sure, but not everyone would pick this album. They say  _American Beauty_ is better, but this one’s my favorite.”

Armin smiled a little. “Mine too.”

“Great minds think alike.”

They didn’t talk much after that, focused on digging up the weeds. The sun glared hotly onto their backs, it really was a brutal day. They smelled like dirt and sweat, but it wasn’t so bad when you were used to it, neither of them seemed to mind. They worked well together. Sooner than he had expected, Armin realized they were nearly done. The only thing left was the roses. Armin let out a small laugh, Jean had been avoiding them too.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was hoping you’d do the roses, so I wouldn’t have to.”

“You’d let me get hurt all by myself?”

“Better you than me.”

“You’re pretty harsh, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

“Come on, it’ll be easier with two people. I’ll protect you.”

He did. He held back the long, thorny stems in gloved hands as Armin got underneath. It worked well, he’d managed to finish sustaining only minor scratches. He let his head hit the grass, sighing in relief that they’d finished.

It was 6:45. _Right on time._


End file.
